Read Burn: A Novel Online

Authors: Linda Howard

Burn: A Novel (31 page)

Oh, yeah. He was worried.

Chapter Twenty-three

O
N THE MORNING THEY REACHED
H
ILO
, H
AWAII
, J
ENNER
woke with her nose almost pressed to Cael’s chest. They were lying facing each other, one of his legs inserted between hers. Familiarity was a terrible thing; she’d become accustomed to being handcuffed to him while she slept. He still kept the room too cool at night for her, so when she went to sleep she ended up rolling into him, instinctively seeking out his warmth. Several times during the night a movement restricted by the cuffs would wake her, a little; she’d move away from him as much as possible, and when she woke again she was in the same sort of position, all but on top of him.

He didn’t seem to mind. Hell, he didn’t even stir, though she knew if she tried to go for the key again or smother him with a pillow, he’d be awake and aware in an instant.

In the past couple of days they’d come to an uncomfortable truce. She didn’t push for details he refused to share, even though it galled her to be left out of the loop; he continued to let her speak to Syd. Yesterday the conversation had even gone on a few moments longer than usual. She’d had the chance to really hear Syd’s voice, and note the lack of fear. They didn’t exchange details
that might endanger the precious concession their captors had made, but it was clear that Syd was surviving the ordeal as well as Jenner was.

Cael had even gone to yesterday’s early-morning yoga class, though he’d made it clear to her that one class was to be the last. Just as well. She’d been looking forward to watching him try to contort himself into knots, and keep his balance at the same time, but she’d been disappointed. As muscled as he was, he still hadn’t had a bit of trouble with any of the positions, which made her think he’d done some yoga or tai chi before. He was, however, a definite distraction in a room full of women—a pleasant distraction, but still … he threw the entire class out of whack just by being there, and being who he was.

The world was filled with all sorts of men, but damned if she’d run into any quite like this one.

She moved away from him and dozed off again, because it was still dark out, but morning was coming and according to the schedule they would reach Hilo about seven a.m. When she woke the next time, light was peeking around the heavy curtains and she was once again curled up against Cael’s side. There had been a time when she’d have panicked at being so close to him, but not anymore. Unfortunately, she liked it. There was no way in hell she’d ever let him know it, but she liked the dip of the bed where his big body lay, the warmth she got from him, even the way his skin smelled.

This time, she didn’t roll away. She couldn’t; he’d thrown one heavy arm over her body. Her face was tucked close to his chest, again, and her feet were entwined with his. It was as if her body wanted to be close to him and every time she let her guard down by going to sleep, it automatically moved closer.

He’d kidnapped her, bullied her, scared her. She had no idea what he was up to and he refused to enlighten her; he made it clear day after day that even though she’d done her best to do what he demanded without giving him too much grief—not too much by
her
standards, that is—he didn’t trust her. Damn it, that
wasn’t fair.
She
wasn’t the kidnapper here; she wasn’t the one who had proven to be untrustworthy.

And yet, she wasn’t afraid of him; hadn’t been for days. She was wary, as any right-minded person would be in these circumstances, but she wasn’t afraid. Did that make her a good judge of character, or a fool who was letting her hoo-ha do her thinking for her?

But she
was
thinking. She was thinking that, no matter how she provoked him—and God knew she’d done her best to really tie him in knots—he hadn’t hurt her, and had in fact responded with sharp humor that slipped under her guard. The “slimy” comment about Larkin, coupled with the “treason” she’d overheard, made her think Cael was one of the good guys. His hat might not be white, but it definitely wasn’t black. Gray, maybe. She could handle gray.

When she realized that Cael was waking up, she crept out from under his arm and turned her back to him, as best she could considering her restraints. She had to pull on his arm, which completely woke him up, and in a matter of minutes he was unlocking the cuffs, and their day was under way.

Less than an hour later she was standing at the railing on the private balcony, sipping coffee on a gorgeous morning, as they neared Hilo. She could allow herself a moment to relish the illusion of being alone, even though Bridget was on the other side of the door, keeping an eye on her while Cael showered. Jenner was tired of telling them that she had no intention of causing them any trouble. Well, no serious trouble. When she knew that Syd was safe, she’d do her best to cause them all kinds of grief.

No matter what their intentions, no matter what Larkin might’ve done, they’d kidnapped her and Syd, and she couldn’t just let that go. It wasn’t in her nature to take a beating, figuratively or literally, and slink away. She wouldn’t go to the authorities, but she’d do
something
. She just had to figure out what.

For now, though, she enjoyed the moment. If she was in another situation, she’d get lost in the magnificent view before her: the water, the lush green of the island, the crisp blue sky and
puffy white clouds. She made a point of taking it all in, because once she got off the
Silver Mist
she was finished with sea travel. If she ever returned to Hawaii, she’d be admiring the view on approach from the window seat of an airplane.

Her illusion of privacy was interrupted when the door behind her opened. She turned as Cael stepped out to join her. She almost smiled. He wore khaki pants and a traditional Hawaiian shirt, loose fitting and brightly colored. The outfit was a far cry from his usual silk shirts and exquisitely tailored pants, but he looked perfectly comfortable, and of course the whole point was for him to look like every other tourist. To her he didn’t look anything of the sort, but then she knew him.

She wondered if she’d even be considering that he was more than he claimed to be if he didn’t look this way. If he was short and scrawny and ugly, would it even cross her mind that he might be one of the good guys? That there might be a reason for his behavior? She didn’t want to be so shallow that her hormones affected her judgment, but what red-blooded woman wouldn’t look at Cael Traylor and fantasize just a little bit.

“Get a quick shower and get dressed,” he said bluntly. “You have thirty minutes. We’re going ashore.”

“Why you silver-tongued devil,” she said. “What an invitation.”

“It isn’t an invitation, it’s an order. You’re a part of the costume.”

Oh, yeah? She was on the same level with his atrocious flowered shirt?

As she went past him he caught her hand, forcing her to stop and look up at him.

His expression was deadly serious when he added, “And today you
will be
on your best behavior.”

T
HEY FOLLOWED LARKIN IN SHIFTS
, he and Jenner, Faith and Ryan, and Matt—who’d sneaked off the boat wearing a pair of baggy shorts and a T-shirt, a dark wig, and sunglasses, as well as a
large well-worn backpack—trailing for a while then breaking off when another team had him in sight. All they knew was that Larkin had a meeting set for Hilo, their first stop in the islands. They didn’t know where or when, but as Larkin had been one of the first passengers to disembark, maybe they’d get lucky and the meeting would take place soon.

The man they were following might not think twice about catching a glimpse of a few of his fellow passengers while he was out and about, but if that went on for too long and he continued to see the same people again and again he’d get suspicious, and might even call off the meeting. If that happened they were back to square one, so they were careful to stay out of sight as much as possible, even though they were swapping out the lead in following him.

Tiffany, who’d spent so much time near Larkin in the past few days that he probably would think twice if he caught sight of her in his orbit on the island, was staying aboard the ship. Bridget would keep an eye on the suite, as usual. Sanchez remained on board, as well, but Cael didn’t trust the hired man the way he trusted his own people. The rest of the team followed Larkin, communicating through a state-of-the-art system that was all but invisible, the components were so small.

Larkin usually had a bodyguard with him wherever he went, but this morning, when his rented car dropped him off on a street corner, he’d continued on alone, walking briskly, taking quick, frequent glances over his shoulder. Cael and Jenner, who’d been in a cab close behind Larkin, notified Matt—the least recognizable of the group in his disguise—of the subject’s whereabouts, and had watched from a distance until Matt informed them that he had Larkin in his sights. For two hours this had continued, the three teams leapfrogging, keeping Larkin in view, until Cael found himself, with Jenner on his arm, at the colorful and crowded farmer’s market.

Larkin weaved in and out of the crowd, stopping now and then to admire flowers, exotic fruits, and even exchange a word or two
with the locals who had set up shop to sell their wares. He even stopped at a table of homemade preserves and nuts, spent several minutes admiring the offerings, and eventually made a purchase. Cael carefully watched the exchange, wondering if this was it, but he saw no exchange other than cash for what looked to be a jar of jelly.

Thank goodness the market was bursting at the seams with people. Cael had no trouble keeping a buffer of several customers between him and Larkin. A gray-haired man in a dark suit was easy to spot in the marketplace, which was teeming with casually dressed locals and tourists. It struck Cael that it was a stupid mistake on Larkin’s part, to dress in a way that made him stand out in a crowd. Either he didn’t care, or he thought he was smarter than everyone else and would spot anyone trying to follow him.

Maybe Larkin wore the suit because he needed the jacket to hide a weapon. Cael and his people hadn’t been able to get weapons on the ship, hadn’t thought they’d need them for surveillance, but security personnel had weapons—not many, but a few—and Larkin had connections with security through Dean Mills. While they hadn’t seen him with a weapon in his possession, there had been moments when he’d been momentarily out of their sight, so it was possible. And since it was possible, Cael preferred to proceed as if Larkin was armed, especially when he and his people were not.

Cael would much prefer to do this job without Jenner in the mix, but if Larkin caught sight of him, it would be best if she were with him. They’d been inseparable since day one, a couple everyone was accustomed to seeing together. And considering where they were at the moment, he was doubly glad to have Jenner beside him. Bringing a woman to the market made perfect sense, but alone … alone he would stand out as much as Larkin did.

Eventually, Larkin moved through the length of the market and into open air. Cael remained beneath the cover of the tarp that shaded and sheltered the market, and spoke to Matt, who would be more easily able to move close without calling attention to himself.

The kid had already changed clothes—and wigs—a couple of times, and now had longish light brown hair, jeans, and a shirt much like the one Cael wore. The backpack was slung over one shoulder, and in that backpack were the shirts and wigs—as well as the equipment they’d need to hear Larkin’s conversations from a distance. A flip of a switch, and the sound of any conversation could be amplified and recorded. Matt had designed the system himself.

Beyond Matt, Ryan and Faith were playing tourist. Faith shielded herself behind other people and wielded her digital camera like any enthusiastic visitor, taking pictures of the market, the people—and Larkin, especially as he crossed the street and neared an Asian man who waited beneath a banyan tree. The waiting North Korean, if the information Cael had collected thus far was correct, was obviously annoyed and anxious.

The North Korean was also wearing a suit. Did that mean he, too, was armed? Wouldn’t it be a lucky break if these two shot each other? Yeah, he should be so lucky.

Cael took Jenner’s arm and guided her to a position behind a tall display of birds of paradise, among other brightly colored flowers. She’d been oddly cooperative and blessedly silent today, but then he’d warned her, as they’d left the ship, that compliance today was mandatory. If she felt compelled to needle him, it would have to wait until tonight.

He put a hand to his ear, the ear containing the earbud that gave him access to the rest of the team, and listened. Matt repeated what he heard, though they’d have clearer, more complete audio on the digital recording in his backpack.

“Kwan,” Matt said.

Okay, they had a name now.

On the opposite side of the street, Faith snapped pictures and laughed. It looked as if the colorful market was her subject, but she was in the perfect position to capture the North Korean’s face. Kwan was likely a false name, but it would do, for now.

“Right to business,” said Matt. He’d adopted a slightly loopy
persona, and to anyone watching, it looked as if the long-haired man was singing to himself. He even swayed in time to imaginary music. People in the park actually walked out of their way to avoid getting too close to him. “Kwan is pissed. He’s been waiting. Larkin just handed him something small. I can’t make out what it is.”

If Faith had gotten a picture from the right angle, maybe they could enlarge the photo and identify whatever had been passed between the two men: a flash drive or microchip, maybe. This could be it, not just a meeting but an actual passing of technology. Why like this? Why not transfer the designs, or whatever information was changing hands, electronically? No money had exchanged hands; Kwan wasn’t standing there with a duffle bag filled with cash, so it was likely Larkin’s payment, at least, had been electronic.

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